“Well, come now; let’s put it to the test.” Blair began stacking the balls.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, when you have had time to get your first news over from Ruggles, tell her you have gone to smash and that you are a pauper.”
“I don’t play tricks like that,” said the Westerner quietly.
“No,” responded Galorey bitterly, “you let others play tricks on you.”
The young man threw his cue smartly down, his youth looked contemptuously at the worldly man, and he turned pale, but he said in a low voice:
“Now, you’ve got to let up on this, Gordon; I thought at first you had been drinking. I won’t listen. Let’s get on another subject, or I’ll clear out.”
Galorey, however, cool and pitiful of the tangle in the boy’s affairs, wouldn’t let himself be angry. “You are my old chum’s boy, Dan,” he went on, “and I’m not going to stand by and see you spoil your life in silence. You are of age. You can go to the devil if you like, but you can’t go there under my roof, without a word from me.”
“Then I’ll get out from under your roof, to-night.”
“Right! I don’t blame you there, but, before you go, tell Lily you have lost your money, and see what she is made of. My dear chap”—he changed his tone to one of affection—“don’t be an ape; listen to me, for your father’s sake; remember your whole life’s happiness is in this game. Isn’t it worth looking after?”